Chapter 8

I have done no more here than merely to sketch the plan of the house. Would you refurnish it? Then, rifle the Naples museum, which has despoiled it. You will find enough of bedsteads, in the collection of bronzes there, for the cubicula; enough of carved benches, tables, stands, and precious vases for the œcus, the exedra, and the wings, and enough of lamps to hang up; enough of candelabra to place in the saloons. Stretch carpets over the costly mosaic pavements and even over the simple _opus signinum_ (a mixture of lime and crushed brick) which covered the floor of the unpretending chambers with a solid incrustation. Above all, replace the ceilings and the roofs, and then the doors and draperies; in fine, revive upon all these walls--the humblest as well as the most splendid--the bright and vivid pictures now effaced. What light, and what a gay impression! How all these clear, bold colors gleam out in the sunshine, which descends in floods from an open sky into the peristyle and the atrium! But that is not all: you must conjure up the dead. Arise, then, and obey our call, O young Pompeians of the first century! I summon Pansa, Paratus, their wives, their children, their slaves; the ostiarius, who kept the door; the _atriensis_, who controlled the atrium; the _scoparius_, armed with his birch-broom; the _cubicularii_, who were the bedroom servants; the _pedagogue_, my colleague, who was a slave like the rest, although he was absolute master of the library, where he alone, perhaps, understood the secrets of the papyri it contained. I hasten to the kitchen: I want to see it as it was in the ancient day,--the _carnarium_, provided with pegs and nails for the fresh provisions, is suspended to the ceiling; the cooking ranges are garnished with chased stew-pans and coppers, and large bronze pails, with luxurious handles, are ranged along on the floor; the walls are covered with shining utensils, long-handled spoons bent in the shape of a swan's neck and head, skillets and frying-pans, the spit and its iron stand, gridirons, pastry-moulds (patty-pans?) fish-moulds (_formella_), and what is no less curious, the _apalare_ and the _trua_, flat spoons pierced with holes either to fry eggs or to beat up liquids, and, in fine, the funnels, the sieves, the strainers, the _colum vinarium_, which they covered with snow and then poured their wine over it, so that the latter dropped freshened and cooled into the cups below,--all rare and precious relics preserved by Vesuvius, and showing in what odd corners elegance nestled, as Moliere would have said, among the Romans of the olden times.

None but men entered this kitchen: they were the cook, or _coquus_, and his subaltern, the slave of the slave, _focarius_. The meal is ready, and now come other slaves assigned to the table,--the _tricliniarches_, or foreman of all the rest; the _lectisterniator_, who makes the beds; the _praegustator_, who tastes the viands beforehand to reassure his master; the _structor_, who arranges the dishes on the plateaux or trays; the _scissor_, who carves the meats; and the young _pocillatro_, or _pincerna_, who pours out the wine into the cups, sometimes dancing as he does so (as represented by Moliere) with the airs and graces of a woman or a spoiled child.

There is festivity to-day: Paratus sups with Pansa, or rather Pansa with Paratus, for I persist in thinking that we are in the house of the elector and not of the future ædile. If the master of the house be a real Roman, like Cicero, he rose early this morning and began the day with receiving visits. He is rich, and therefore has many friends, and has them of three kinds,--the _salutatores_, the _ductores_, and the _assectatores_. The first-named call upon him at his own house; the second accompany him to public meetings; and the third never leave him at all in public. He has, besides, a number of clients, whom he protects and whom he calls "my father" if they be old, and "my brother" if they be young. There are others who come humbly to offer him a little basket (_sportula_), which they carry away full of money or provisions. This morning Paratus has sent off his visitors expeditiously; then, as he is no doubt a pious man, he has gone through his devotions before the domestic altar, where his household gods are ranged. We know that he offered peculiar worship to Bacchus, for he had a little bronze statue of that god, with silver eyes; it was, I think, at the entrance of his garden, in a kettle, wrapped up with other precious articles, Paratus tried to save this treasure on the day of the eruption, but he had to abandon it in order to save himself. But to continue my narration of the day as this Pompeian spent it. His devotions over, he took a turn to the Forum, the Exchange, the Basilica, where he supported the candidature of Pansa. From there, unquestionably, he did not omit going to the Thermæ, a measure of health; and, now, at length, he has just returned to his home. During his absence, his slaves have cleansed the marbles, washed the stucco, covered the pavements with sawdust, and, if it be in winter, have lit fuel oil large bronze braziers in the open air and borne them into the saloons, for there are no chimneys anywhere. The expected guest at length arrives--salutations to Pansa, the future ædile! Meanwhile Sabina, the wife of Paratus, has not remained inactive. She has passed the whole morning at her toilet, for the toilet of a Sabina, Pompeian or Roman, is an affair of state,--see Boettger's book. As she awoke she snapped her fingers to summon her slaves, and the poor girls have hastened to accomplish this prodigious piece of work. First, the applier of cosmetics has effaced the wrinkles from the brows of her mistress, and, then, with her saliva, has prepared her rouge; then, with a needle, she has painted her mistress' eyelashes and eyebrows, forming two well-arched and tufted lines of jetty hue, which unite at the root of the nose. This operation completed, she has washed Sabina's teeth with rosin from Scio, or more simply, with pulverized pumice-stone, and, finally, has overspread her entire countenance with the white powder of lead which was much used by the Romans at that early day.

Then came the _ornatrix_, or hairdresser. The fair Romans dyed their hair blonde, and when the dyeing process was not sufficient, they wore wigs. This example was followed by the artists, who put wigs on their statues; in France they would put on crinoline. Ancient head-dresses were formidable monuments held up with pins of seven or eight inches in length. One of these pins, found at Herculaneum, is surmounted with a Corinthian capital upon which a carved Venus is twisting her hair with both hands while she looks into a mirror that Cupid holds up before her. The mirrors of those ancient days--let us exhaust the subject!--were of polished metal; the richest were composed of a plate of silver applied upon a plate of gold and sustained by a carved handle of wood or ivory; and Seneca exclaimed, in his testy indignation, "The dowry that the Senate once bestowed upon the daughter of Scipio would no longer suffice to pay for the mirror of a freedwoman!"

At length, Sabina's hair is dressed: Heaven grant that she may be pleased with it, and may not, in a fit of rage, plunge one of her long pins into the naked shoulder of the ornatrix! Now comes the slave who cuts her nails, for never would a Roman lady, or a Roman gentleman either, who had any self-respect, have deigned to perform this operation with their own hands. It was to the barber or _tonsor_ that this office was assigned, along with the whole masculine toilet, generally speaking; that worthy shaved you, clipped you, plucked you, even washed you and rubbed your skin; perfumed you with unguents, and curried you with the strigilla if the slaves at the bath had not already done so. Horace makes great sport of an eccentric who used to pare his own nails.

Sabina then abandons her hands to a slave who, armed with a set of small pincers and a penknife (the ancients were unacquainted with scissors), acquitted themselves skilfully of that delicate task--a most grave affair and a tedious operation, as the Roman ladies wore no gloves. Gesticulation was for them a science learnedly termed _chironomy_. Like a skilful instrument, pantomime harmoniously accompanied the voice. Hence, all those striking expressions that we find in authors,--"the subtle devices of the fingers," as Cicero has it; the "loquacious hand" of Petronius. Recall to your memory the beautiful hands of Diana and Minerva, and these two lines of Ovid, which naturally come in here:

"Exiguo signet gestu quodcunque loquetur, Cui digiti pingues, cui scaber unguis erit."[E]

The nail-paring over, there remains the dressing of the person, to be accomplished by other slaves. The seamstresses (_carcinatrices_) belonged to the least-important class; for that matter, there was little or no sewing to do on the garments of the ancients. Lucretia had been dead for many years, and the matrons of the empire did not waste their time in spinning wool. When Livia wanted to make the garments of Augustus with her own hands, this fancy of the Empress was considered to be in very bad taste. A long retinue of slaves (cutters, linen-dressers, folders, etc.), shared in the work of the feminine toilet, which, after all, was the simplest that had been worn, since the nudity of the earliest days. Over the scarf which they called _trophium_, and which sufficed to hold up their bosoms, the Roman ladies passed a long-sleeved _subucula_, made of fine wool, and over that they wore nothing but the tunic when in the house. The _libertinæ_, or simple citizens' wives and daughters, wore this robe short and coming scarcely to the knee, so as to leave in sight the rich bracelets that they wore around their legs. But the matrons lengthened the ordinary tunic by means of a plaited furbelow or flounce (_instita_), edged, sometimes, with golden or purple thread. In such case, it took the name of _stola_, and descended to their feet. They knotted it at the waist, by means of a girdle artistically hidden under a fold of the tucked-up garment. Below the tunic, the women when on the street wore, lastly, their _toga_, which was a roomy mantle enveloping the bosom and flung back over the left shoulder; and thus attired, they moved along proudly, draped in white woollens.

At length, the wife of Paratus is completely attired; she has drawn on the white bootees worn by matrons; unless, indeed, she happens to prefer the sandals worn by the libertinæ,--the freedwomen were so called,--which left those large, handsome Roman feet, which we should like to see a little smaller, uncovered. The selection of her jewelry is now all that remains to be done. Sabina owned some curious specimens that were found in the ruins of her house. The Latins had a discourteous word to designate this collection of precious knick-knackery; they called it the "woman's world," as though it were indeed all that there was in the world for women. One room in the Museum at Naples is full of these exhumed trinkets, consisting of serpents bent into rings and bracelets, circlets of gold set with carved stones, earrings representing sets of scales, clusters of pearls, threads of gold skilfully twisted into necklaces; chaplets to which hung amulets, of more or less decent design, intended as charms to ward off ill-luck; pins with carved heads; rich clasps that held up the tunic sleeves or the gathered folds of the mantle, cameoed with a superb relief and of exquisite workmanship worthy of Greece; in fine, all that luxury and art, sustaining each other, could invent that was most wonderful. The Pompeian ladies, in their character of provincials, must have carried this love of baubles that cost them so dearly, to extremes: thus, they wore them in their hair, in their ears, on their necks, on their shoulders, their arms, their wrists, their legs, even on their ankles and their feet, but especially on their hands, every finger of which, excepting the middle one, was covered with rings up to the third joint, where their lovers slipped on those that they desired to exchange with them.

Her toilet completed, Sabina descended from her room in the upper story. The ordinary guests, the friend of the house, the clients and _the shadows_ (such was the name applied to the supernumeraries, the humble doubles whom the invited guests brought with them), awaited her in the peristyle. Nine guests in all--the number of the Muses. It was forbidden to exceed that total at the suppers of the triclinium. There were never more than nine, nor less than three, the number of the Graces. When a great lord invited six thousand Romans to his table, the couches were laid in the atrium. But there is not an atrium in Pompeii that could contain the hundredth part of that number.

The ninth hour of the day, i.e., the third or fourth in the afternoon, has sounded, and it is now that the supper begins in all respectable houses. Some light collations, in the morning and at noon, have only sharpened the appetites of the guests. All are now assembled; they wash their hands and their feet, leave their sandals at the door, and are shown into the triclinium.

The three bronze bedsteads are covered with cushions and drapery; the one at the end (_the medius_) in one corner represents the place of honor reserved for the important guest, the consular personage. On the couch to the right recline the host, the hostess, and the friend of the house. The other guests take the remaining places. Then, in come the slaves bearing trays, which they put, one by one, upon the small bronze table with the marble top which is stationed between the three couches like a tripod. Ah! what glowing descriptions I should have to make were I at the house of Trimalcion or Lucullus! I should depict to you the winged hares, the pullets and fish carved in pieces, with pork meat; the wild boar served up whole upon an enormous platter and stuffed with living thrushes, which fly out in every direction when the boar's stomach is cut open; the side dishes of birds' tongues; of enormous _murenæ_ or eels; barbel caught in the Western Ocean and stifled in salt pickle; surprises of all kinds for the guests, such as sets of dishes descending from the ceiling, fantastic apparitions, dancing girls, mountebanks, gladiators, trained female athletes,--all the orgies, in fine, of those strange old times. But let us not forget where we really are. Paratus is not an emperor, and has to confine himself to a simple citizen repast, quiet and unassuming throughout. The bill of fare of one of these suppers has been preserved, and here we give it:

_First Course._--Sea urchins. Raw oysters at discretion. _Pelorides_ or palourdes (a sort of shell-fish now found on the coasts of Poitou in France). Thorny shelled oysters; larks; a hen pullet with asparagus; stewed oysters and mussels; white and black sea-tulips.

_Second Course._--_Spondulae_, a variety of oyster; sweet water mussels; sea nettles; becaficoes; cutlets of kid and boar's meat; chicken pie; becaficoes again, but differently prepared, with an asparagus sauce; _murex_ and purple fish. The latter were but different kinds of shell-fish.

_Third Course._--The teats of a sow _au naturel_; they were cut as soon as the animal had littered; wild boar's head (this was the main dish); sow's teats in a ragout; the breasts and necks of roast ducks; fricasseed wild duck; roast hare, a great delicacy; roasted Phrygian chickens; starch cream; cakes from Vicenza.

All this was washed down with the light Pompeian wine, which was not bad, and could be kept for ten years, if boiled. The wine of Vesuvius, once highly esteemed, has lost its reputation, owing to the concoctions now sold to travellers under the label of _Lachrymæ Christi_. The vintages of the volcano must have been more honestly prepared at the period when they were sung by Martial. Every day there is found in the cellars of Pompeii some short-necked, full-bodied, and elongated _amphora_, terminating in a point so as to stick upright in the ground, and nearly all are marked with an inscription stating the age and origin of the liquor they contained. The names of the consuls usually designated the year of the vintage. The further back the consul, the more respectable the wine. A Roman, in the days of the Empire, having been asked under what consul his wine dated, boldly replied, "Under none!" thereby proclaiming that his cellar had been stocked under the earliest kings of Rome.

These inscriptions on the amphoræ make us acquainted with an old Vesuvian wine called _picatum_, or, in other words, with a taste of pitch; _fundanum_, or Fondi wine, much esteemed, and many others. In fine, let us not forget the famous growth of Falernus, sung by the poets, which did not disappear until the time of Theodoric.

But besides the amphoræ, how much other testimony there still remains of the olden libations,--those rich _crateræ_, or broad, shallow goblets of bronze damascened with silver; those delicately chiselled cups; those glasses and bottles which Vesuvius has preserved for us; that jug, the handle of which is formed of a satyr bending backward to rub his shoulders against the edge of the vase; those vessels of all shapes on which eagles perch or swans and serpents writhe; those cups of baked clay adorned with so many arabesques and inviting descriptions. "Friend," says one of them "drink of my contents."

"Friend of my soul, this goblet sip!"

rhymes the modern bard.

What a mass of curious and costly things! What is the use of rummaging in books! With the museums of Naples before us, we can reconstruct all the triclinia of Pompeii at a glance.

There, then, are the guests, gay, serene, reclining or leaning on their elbows on the three couches. The table is before them, but only to be looked at, for slaves are continually moving to and fro, from one to the other, serving every guest with a portion of each dish on a slice of bread. Pansa daintily carries the delicate morsel offered him to his mouth with his fingers, and flings the bread under the table, where a slave, in crouching attitude, gathers up all the debris of the repast. No forks are used, for the ancients were unacquainted with them. At the most, they knew the use of the spoon or cochlea, which they employed in eating eggs. After each dish they dipped their fingers in a basin presented to them, and then wiped them upon a napkin that they carried with them as we take our handkerchiefs with us. The wealthiest people had some that were very costly and which they threw into the fire when they had been soiled; the fire cleansed without burning them. Refined people wiped their fingers on the hair of the cupbearers,--another Oriental usage. Recollect Jesus and Mary Magdalene.

At length, the repast being concluded, the guests took off their wreaths, which they stripped of their leaves into a goblet that was passed around the circle for every one to taste, and this ceremony concluded the libations.

I have endeavored to describe the supper of a rich Pompeian and exhibit his dwelling as it would appear reconstructed and re-occupied. Reduce its dimensions and simplify it as much as possible by suppressing the peristyle, the columns, the paintings, the tablinum, the exedra, and all the rooms devoted to pleasure or vanity, and you will have the house of a poor man. On the contrary, if you develop it, by enriching it beyond measure, you may build in your fancy one of those superb Roman palaces, the extravagant luxuriousness of which augmented, from day to day, under the emperors. Lucius Crassus, who was the first to introduce columns of foreign marble, in his dwelling, erected only six of them but twelve feet high. At a later period, Marcus Scaurus surrounded his atrium with a colonnade of black marble rising thirty-eight feet above the soil. Mamurra did not stop at so fair a limit. That distinguished Roman knight covered his whole house with marble. The residence of Lepidus was the handsomest in Rome seventy-eight years before Christ. Thirty-five years later, it was but the hundredth. In spite of some attempts at reaction by Augustus, this passion for splendor reached a frantic pitch. A freedman in the reign of Claudius decorated his triclinium with thirty-two columns of onyx. I say nothing of the slaves that were counted by thousands in the old palaces, and by hundreds in the triclinium and kitchen alone.

"O ye beneficent gods! how many men employed to serve a single stomach!" exclaimed Seneca, who passed in his day for a master of rhetoric. In our time, he would be deemed a socialist.

[Footnote D: So strong was this feeling, that the very name _inquilinus_, or lodger, was an insult. Cicero not having been born at Rome, Catiline called him offensively _civis inquilinus_--a lodger citizen. (_Sallust_.)]

[Footnote E: Let not fingers that are too thick, and ill-pared nails, make gestures too conspicuous.]

VII.

ART IN POMPEII.

THE HOMES OF THE WEALTHY.--THE TRIANGULAR FORUM AND THE TEMPLES.--POMPEIAN ARCHITECTURE: ITS MERITS AND ITS DEFECTS.--THE ARTISTS OF THE LITTLE CITY.--THE PAINTINGS HERE.--LANDSCAPES, FIGURES, ROPE-DANCERS, DANCING-GIRLS, CENTAURS, GODS, HEROES, THE ILIAD ILLUSTRATED.--MOSAICS.--STATUES AND STATUETTES.--JEWELRY.--CARVED GLASS.--ART AND LIFE.

The house of Pansa was large, but not much ornamented. There are others which are shown in preference to the visitor. Let us mention them concisely in the catalogue and inventory style:

The house of the Faun.--Fine mosaics; a masterpiece in bronze; the Dancing Faun, of which we shall speak farther on. Besides the atrium and the peristyle, a third court, the xysta, surrounded with forty-four columns, duplicated on the upper story. Numberless precious things were found there, in the presence of the son of Goethe. The owner was a wine-merchant.(?)

The house of the Quæstor, or of Castor and Pollux.--Large safes of very thick and very hard wood, lined with copper and ornamented with arabesques, perhaps the public money-chests, hence this was probably the residence of the quæstor who had charge of the public funds; a Corinthian atrium; fine paintings--the _Bacchante_ the _Medea_, the _Children of Niobe_, etc. Rich development of the courtyards.

The house of the Poet.--Homeric paintings; celebrated mosaics; the dog at the doorsill, with the inscription _Cave Canem_; the _Choragus causing the recitation of a piece_. All these are at the museum.

The house of Sallust.--A fine bronze group; Hercules pursuing a deer (taken to the Museum at Palermo); a pretty stucco relievo in one of the bedchambers; Three couches of masonry in the triclinium; a decent and modest _venereum_ that ladies may visit. There is seen an Acteon surprising Diana in the bath, the stag's antlers growing on his forehead and the hounds tearing him. The two scenes connect in the same picture, as in the paintings of the middle ages. Was this a warning to rash people? This venereum contained a bedchamber, a triclinium and a lararium, or small marble niche in which the household god was enshrined.